


Trying On

by what_a_dork_fish



Series: Skirts [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Fluff, I think it's cute but idk I'm biased, Silly, hella ridiculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 14:41:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7512188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_a_dork_fish/pseuds/what_a_dork_fish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q tries on clothes and Eve is his cheerleader.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trying On

**Author's Note:**

> 8/18/2016--It came to my attention a few days after this was posted that I am colorblind and his eyes are hazel, not blue.
> 
> Please forgive me.

“Now do a little twirl for me.”

Q rolls his eyes but turns in a circle, trying not to make the skirt flare. He’s still not sure about this, but he will admit that the skirt is much easier to handle than trousers, and in this heat… well, a knee-length cotton skirt is cooler than tweed, or at least less binding. The blouse, he is definitely rejecting.

“You’re so cute!” Eve applauds, grinning slightly maniacally. “Wait til Bond sees!”

Q’s face turns ashen. “You’re not seriously suggesting—“ he starts frantically, then shuts up as the sound of the front door opening echoes down the hall. Silently, he shimmies out of the skirt before Eve can stop him, and snatches up his trousers.

“Q,” Bond calls, “Why is there a pair of high heels with our shoes?”

A pang of guilt and fear as Q takes off the heels he himself had put on at Eve’s request and thrusts one leg into his—

“Oh, it’s just you,” Bond says from the doorway, and both Q and Eve jump. “Hello, Miss Mon—“ Then Bond sees the scattered clothing, skirts, shirts, and dresses, as well as Q’s clothes (Eve had wanted to try his things while he tried hers), and the way Q is blushing, and the slightly annoyed look on Eve’s face.

“…Something I should know?” Bond asks carefully into the silence, his eyes on the pretty blue blouse Q is wearing that match his eyes exactly.

“W-well, ah, um, we were just, we, um,” Q stammers, but Moneypenny steps in smoothly, and lies.

“He lost a bet,” she explains, a slight smirk curling her mouth. “He has to wear a dress for 24 hours. But he needed help picking one out, so I intervened.”

“And is there a reason you’re wearing his clothes?” Bond inquires, still looking at the way Q is cowering slightly.

“Hmm? Oh, these!” Eve plucks at the cardigan straining slightly across her bosom (Q’s chest being smaller around than hers). “Yes, I’m keeping him company.”

Bond finally looks down, and sees the shiny black stiletto heels Q had been wearing. He frowns at them. “Do those even fit you?” he asks, which is so completely unlike what Q is expecting that he scowls, finishes yanking on his trousers, and steps once again into the shoes, balancing easily. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s worn high-heeled shoes. It’s just the first time he’d worn them in front of people.

Bond’s eyebrows rise, and he looks up from Q’s feet. “Well then,” he says, staring into Q’s face, and says nothing else about the shoes, even though Q is now a full inch taller than him.

“Do you want to see him in a dress?” Eve asks slyly, “Because we found some that are absolutely adorable—“

“Moneypenny!” Q chokes out, horrified. “We did not!”

“Sure,” Bond says with a shrug, and Q shoots him a betrayed look. “If you’re going to wear skirts for 24 hours, you may as well have two opinions on them.”

Grumbling about people who take advantage of others, Q casts around until he spots the red dress—“Red as the Devil’s lipstick,” Eve had called it—and picks it up, making sure not the wrinkle it. “Out,” he orders Bond with a fierce glare.

Bond follows the order, and steps out of the room, closing the door politely behind him.

Q undresses for what feels like the one-hundredth time and reaches for the dress again, only to stop as Eve raises her hand. Eyes glinting wickedly, Eve bends down, rummages in one of the six shopping bags she’d brought with her, and pulls out a pair of silk panties.

“Oh, _no_ —“ Q protests, blushing again, horrified at the very thought of anyone knowing he’s worn such a thing. “Eve, please, I don’t—“

“Just this once,” she promises, holding them out with her index fingers hooked in the sides to better show them off. They’re very pretty, a pale rose pink with a white lace overlay. “C’mon, I ordered them special off a website for you.”

“You’ve been _planning_ this,” Q accuses.

“Ever since you complimented my dress at the Christmas party,” she agrees evilly. “Just put them on. You’ll like them.”

Q glares, then snatches the panties from her, picks up the dress, and retreats to the en suite.

She’s right. He does like them. Mostly because they’re softer than his regular boxer-briefs; but also because they’re… comfortable. He decides not to explore that feeling. On goes the dress; he doesn’t like how it clashes with his eyes, but it’s pretty. He’s always preferred browns and greys, but reds are alright. And it’s a simple cut, though he could never begin to explain each piece; all he knows is that the sleeves are called “cap sleeves” and the length just above his knees. A flirty dress. He doesn’t feel flirty. But for all his worrying that it would look horrible… it’s not that bad. There’s a belt to go with it, black velvet with a small bow, and it takes him a minute to find his waist so that it sits like it’s supposed to.

Then he walks out stiffly, and Eve nearly bounces out of her seat.

“Oh my gosh, you’re so pretty!” she gasps, hands clasped under her chin. “Let me do your hair and it’ll be perfect!”

“Eve, I don’t think—“

“Can I come in yet?” Bond calls from outside in an aggrieved tone.

“No!” Q snaps back, and lets Eve haul him back to the bathroom for the finishing touches.

~~~\0/~~~

James is confused.

He knows Q very well. He also knows that Q likes pretty things; that’s all over the flat they share. Flowers and pastels and computer components arranged lovingly are the themes of every room. But how, _how_ , was Eve the first to figure out that Q liked pretty clothes, too?

Not that James is surprised. And it doesn’t surprise him that Q had taken such a bet (because James knows that Q would’ve decided the penalty). In fact, he’s almost looking forward to seeing Q in a skirt. That red number had looked rather… provocative.

No, he shouldn’t think like that. This might be the first time Q has every dressed up for other people, and it would be very rude to see him as anything other than someone wearing something he likes.

James sighs heavily. What’s taking so long?

~~~\0/~~~

“What’s taking so long?” Q complains.

“Hush,” Eve murmurs as she finishes placing the hairpins just so. “There. Not perfect, but that’s to be expected. Now come out and put on your shoes, and you’ll make his jaw drop.” She grins wickedly in the mirror and Q blushes. Eve is the only one to know about Q’s raging crush on Bond, and that puts her in a very unique position. She’ll never tell, their friendship is too important and valuable; but she can tease him about it, gently.

Q turns his head both ways, inspecting his hair. Eve has curled the ends softly with the hair iron she’d brought, and… he can’t say he’s displeased. She’s also pinned stubborn flyaways in such a way that they are seamless with the rest of his hair.

So he comes out of the bathroom, slips on the heels, and waits for Eve to open the door with a flourish.

~~~\0/~~~

James only just manages to stop from blurting out how beautiful Q is. Even with a stiff back and arms crossed tightly, there is something very soft and special about him. Even the scowl is pretty.

When James manages to speak around the lump in his throat, he says calmly, “An excellent choice, but I’d say more evening wear than work-appropriate.”

“I agree,” Eve put in thoughtfully. “Q, darling, how about the periwinkle dress and black cardigan?”

“No, periwinkle wouldn’t go with your eyes,” James heard himself saying. “Sky-blue would be better.”


End file.
